


For Rent

by sachertortes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Horror Elements, Humor, general seasonal spoopiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:26:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sachertortes/pseuds/sachertortes
Summary: Adventures in apartment hunting, featuring Darcy and Bucky.Darcy thinks this new place is the answer to all of her prayers.Bucky takes one look at that mysterious stain on the floor and disagrees.





	For Rent

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta’d and a good chunk of it was written while I was sick, to boot. All mistakes are mine (but pls be gentle). Enjoy!

 

“Go ahead,” Darcy sighed. She watched as her boyfriend’s left eyebrow ticked up. “I know you wanna say it.”

“Alright.” Bucky leaned against the driver’s side of the car and passed the keys from hand to (silver) hand. “I told you s–“

“Ugggh! Oh my god, don’t even say it!”

 

_Two hours earlier…_

 

Darcy followed the real estate agent down the plushy carpeted hallway, Bucky trailing a bit behind.

“There’s laundry facilities and assigned parking with a guest pass. This property has a lot of character, I think you’ll love it!” Joyce chirped as she moved quickly and efficiently in her modest heels and dark blue suit skirt.

From behind her, Bucky leaned down to murmur into Darcy’s ear. “Darlin’, this place is older’n I am.”

“Character, Bucky, she said this place has _character,_ ” answered Darcy through clenched teeth.

She was slightly on edge. She’d dragged Bucky apartment hunting for the better part of the day, finally having had enough of conveniently making herself scarce any time Thor showed up at her and Jane’s place with that lusty gleam in his eyes. Alien gods were _loud_ in bed and though she loved her BFF very much she didn’t need to know all the pet names Thor gave Jane during sex.

So instead she planned to move out of their shared space and into her own apartment. She’d happily and excitedly spent many hours (some of them work hours, not that she’ll ever tell Jane) looking up properties and making a list. She even cajoled her super soldier boyfriend into coming with her, hoping another pair of eyes would help weed out any clunkers.

Only, the actual apartment hunting part of apartment hunting was not nearly as fun as she’d hoped. None of the places they were shown lived up to their online photos and she couldn’t see herself living in any of them.

She was tired, she was snappish, and she was feeling a little downtrodden if she honest with herself.

But then Joyce had suggested something unconventional. An older apartment had just come on the market, the previous owners having vacated somewhat hastily. It wasn’t even listed yet.

Darcy jumped at her one last chance.

“Here we are! Number 217.” Joyce fitted the key into the lock, opened the door and motioned for them to follow her inside.

The door opened into the largest living area they’d seen yet, the walls a faded shade of forest green, the ceilings surprisingly high. The entire space was ornately framed by chestnut brown crown moulding.

Darcy could hardly believe her luck.

“Oh my god. Hardwood floors,” she breathed in a tone usually reserved for triple chocolate cupcakes or getting foot massages from handsome ex-assassins.

“Nineteenth century black walnut,” added Joyce. “Also, the previous owners have indicated that they’ll be unable to return for their furniture. So it’s all yours if you want it. You can keep or sell whatever you want, if you don’t like their pieces.”

“Oooh! Bucky, I won’t even have to buy new furniture!” Darcy said.

For his part, Bucky gave the dusty old furnishings a skeptical look. In his experience, if something was too good to be true it probably was.

“And everything’s so beautiful!” Darcy gazed happily at the dark blue chaise under the window, already imagining herself there with a cup of coffee on a rainy day.

Joyce grinned and read off of her trusty clipboard. “This is a pre-war property…”

“Civil or Revolutionary?” Bucky grumbled beneath his breath, taking in the threadbare rugs and the vase on the side table containing grey, dead flowers. Darcy elbowed him in the side.

“One,” their endlessly patient real estate agent answered a tad tightly. “This whole building used to be girls’ boarding school, until –“ Joyce cut herself off so fast her teeth clacked together.

Bucky, ever the sniper, saw his clear line of shot immediately. “Until what.”

Joyce cleared her throat, suddenly extremely interested in the crown molding. “Until the, uh, the fire.”

“The fire.”

“Yes. It was a tragedy but that was _so_ many years ago. Really, with a property as old as this you expect a bit of…history –”

“Holy banana balls! Is that the original mantel?!” Darcy exclaimed, walking over to the fireplace to run her hands over the dark wood. The carved scrolls and vines and gargoyles trimmed a fireplace that was nearly as tall as she was.

“It certainly is!” Joyce said, relieved. “The fireplace isn’t working of course, but you can always display some decorative candles in there, or put your favorite work of art over the mantel. A mirror could open this room right up!”

Then all three of them froze as the great fireplace let out a gusty, deep, groan that reverberated through the living room. It sounded throaty and nearly human and a delicate looking candy dish shook ominously on the shelf.

Joyce chuckled nervously. “Sometimes the wind catches the flues just right and it makes that noise. It’s why all of these old chimneys are no longer in use.”

“Also, the fire,” intoned Bucky helpfully.

“Yes.” Joyce cleared her throat then rubbed an invisible speck of dirt off the fang of a sneering gargoyle. “That too.”

Bucky watched as Darcy managed to ignore the strange sound that passed through what could eventually be her living room and made her way to the kitchen area.

“I know the counters are little dated,” said Joyce, following. “But you can always replace the tops if you like. Put in granite or marble.”

“Yeah, nice counters. Dontcha think they’re just the perfect height, doll?” Bucky drawled lowly into Darcy’s ear, pressing his fingertips gently into her hips. Immediately, Darcy’s mind went to the night before where they had forgone dessert and instead Bucky bent her over her kitchen counters and took her from behind, rough and fast, while she muffled her screams into a kitchen towel.

Darcy licked her lips and hid her flush behind a tumble of curls. “Uh-huh,” she answered, a little squeakily.

Bucky, the smug bastard, then checked out the fridge on the other side of the kitchen. It wasn’t the fancy, stainless steel, Wi-Fi connected pieces of technology Stark used at the facility but a plain white GE. Nothing special, but it worked and that was enough for it pass his inspection.

Having successfully flustered his girlfriend and made sure that the fridge didn’t contain a portal to a hell dimension or something, Bucky rejoined Joyce in the living room.

“When I did a perimeter check around this place –”

“A perimeter check,” repeated Joyce, brows creeping up to her immaculately hairsprayed bangs.

“I noticed that there should be another window here.” Bucky gestured at the blank wall, against which a rickety-looking sideboard was placed.

Brows furrowed, Joyce licked the corner of her thumb and efficiently began flipping through the pages she had on her clipboard.

She squinted. “Oh! Yes, I see now.”

She and Bucky both stared for a beat at the wall. “Huh. It should be here.” She waved her hand vaguely in front of her. “Help me move the table?”

She and Bucky both took an end of the table and moved it to the side.

There was no door.

There _was_ an irregularity in the paint.

Bucky produced a small knife and began running the blade along a seam, sending little chips of green paint falling to the floor. When he was finished, a small door, short enough that someone would have to crouch down to enter was revealed. There was no doorknob, so Bucky wedged it open with the blade.

Only inky blackness lay beyond.

Joyce turned on her phone’s flashlight, illuminating the room enough that they could see that it was small, hardly any bigger than eight by eight feet. He and Joyce stepped inside on floorboards that protested under their weight. The walls were covered with peeling, worn blue wallpaper.

Darcy joined them soon enough and made her way over to the far wall to shove back a heavy brocade curtain. The beam of sunlight, though pale and dingy, was welcome in the dark room.

Darcy rubbed at her arms. “It’s cold in here.”

Bucky, from behind her, grunted and quickly pulled his glove off his left hand.

“11.5 degrees cooler than the temperature of the rest of the apartment.”

Dust motes swirled through the air and the three of them studied their surroundings.

It was empty except for one tattered, brown rocking horse, sitting in the corner. Its black button eyes gleamed even though its body was covered in layers of dust.

Bucky eyed it warily.

“I wonder why it was boarded up,” Darcy said, hesitantly.

“Who knows?” Joyce answered, her voice a little manic with forced cheer. “I once showed a house where the owners razed a perfectly nice solarium to make room for a man cave.” She shrugged.

Darcy pressed a hanging strip of wallpaper back in place. “I guess this could be a cute reading nook or something.”

“Can we raze it first?” Bucky asked. Then as if the place _heard_ him, an answering _creeaak_ sounded from the corner.

Bucky turned.

The damned pony, with its shiny black eye, _winked_ at him.

_I will not shoot a toy, I will not shoot a toy, I will not shoot a toy,_ Bucky repeated to himself.

Still, when Joyce primly brushed at the dust on her skirt and suggested they all go into the living room again, Bucky readily agreed.

Darcy was asking Joyce about rental contracts when Bucky saw the slightly crumpled corner of the oriental rug.

He toed at it, narrowed his eyes, and bent down to flip over a large section. He pointed at the discolored hardwood.

“What’s this?” he asked Joyce, though it was clear from his tone that he already knew what it was.

“Huh.” Joyce tilted her head. “Old water damage, perhaps?”

Bucky motioned for Darcy to look at the huge dark, irregular stain on the floor.

“This is a bloodstain,” Bucky said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not possible.”

“Ma’am, I’ve seen a lot of things in my line of work, please believe me when I say that _that,_ ” he pointed with emphasis, “is a bloodstain.”

“What did you say you do, again?”

“Bucky, come on.” Darcy glared at him.

He glared right back.

Joyce looked between the two of them and gently cleared her throat.

“I’m going to take a look at the bathroom,” Darcy bit out, still giving her boyfriend an unimpressed frown. “Come with me?”

Bucky huffed. “Fine.”

“Down the hall, to your left,” Joyce called out after them.

Darcy headed in first.

“Hey! A clawfoot bathtub!” she exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted one!”

Bucky followed her into the bathroom. There was indeed a porcelain clawfoot bathtub. There was also an ancient radiator that was slightly rusted and hissing out heat.

“Radiator’s on the fritz,” he said, only barely holding himself back from giving it a solid kick.

Then he leaned over to the tub to turn on the hot water tap. After several hollow groans, it sputtered then released a clear stream of water that was warming up by the minute. Bucky turned it off.

“Well. It’s not blood. That’s a nice surprise,” he quipped, rolling his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” Darcy demanded, hands on her hips and looking as annoyed as he’d ever seen her. It’d be cute as hell if it wasn’t directed at him.

“Doin’ what?”

“You didn’t like any of the places she showed me today. The first place was too small, the second was in a bad neighborhood. And that duplex!”

“In the time that we were at the duplex that nosey old biddy of a neighbor tried to figure out if we were married, if we had kids, how old the kids are, if you’re going to have frequent visitors and if you’ve found Jesus,” Bucky said. “You wanna live next to that?”

Darcy gave a thoughtful nod and bit her lip. “Yeah. You’ve got a point, I suppose. But this apartment, it’s _nice_ , Bucky! I’ve finally found a nice apartment, and you – you’re _ruining_ it by being cranky!”

“Sweetheart, I’m not cranky I promise. I just – have you looked at this place, really _looked_? It’s all wrong! Where are the previous owners? Why is there a goddamn bloodstain in the living room? That fireplace? There’s a walled up secret room here, and I swear to Christ that fuckin’ toy pony _winked at me._ I don’t like it.”

“It’s just an apartment, Bucky. All that weird, supernatural stuff, it’s not real! Once I get my things in here and take some of this old people stuff out, maybe repaint, it’ll be better. At least better than that duplex, or that apartment that used to have eight dogs living in it.” There was a sad tremor in Darcy’s voice and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“…You’ve really set your heart on this one?”

“Yes.”

Bucky sighed, then smoothed his palms comfortingly over her shoulders. “Promise me you’ll let Wanda or someone come by once in a while? To, I don’t know, check on it or something?”

Darcy looked up at him and smirked. “Are you trying to get me to…exorcise my apartment?”

“Humor me, darlin’. I’m the one who got hit on by a stuffed animal.”

“Okay. I’ll let Wanda have a look.” Darcy leaned in to kiss his nose. “Now, please leave.”

“Darce, I – “

“No.” Darcy muffled her giggles in her hand. “Please leave so I can pee.”

“Oh! Right. I’ll be outside.”

Shutting the door behind him, Darcy did her business in the bathroom that was becoming increasingly tropical. She was definitely going to have to get maintenance up here to fix that damned radiator. She pulled listlessly at the collar of her blouse before washing her hands in the sink.

Drying her hands on the guest towel she glanced in the ornate bronze framed mirror above the sink to check her appearance.

Well.

Tried.

Her reflection was blurry because the mirror was steamed over  -

“Nooooope. Nope nope nope.” Darcy yanked open the door and scuttled out making a beeline right for Bucky. “You’re right,” she said simply. “Let’s go. I don’t want this one.”

“ _Finally_.” Bucky pushed off the wall he was leaning on and took her slightly shaking hand in his. “What made you change your mind?”

“Handprints,” Darcy said, suppressing a shiver making its way up the base of her neck. “A child’s handprints. On the mirror.”

Bucky gave two quick nods, and swiftly led her down the hallway. “Yeah. Got it. We’re leavin’.”

 

 

_The present…_

“An apartment full of nightmares,” sighed Darcy. “Of course.” She kicked at a pebble on the ground.

“You’ll find somethin’. I know it.”

“I don’t know, Bucky. I feel like this was my last hope. Maybe I should just stay with Jane and invest in some earplugs.”

“So move in with me at the facility,” Bucky offered easily.

“You’re funny,” Darcy laughed, rolling her eyes.

In answer, Bucky only gave a tiny smile but she didn’t miss the look of hurt that flitted briefly across his face.

“Holy shit, you’re serious!”

“Of course I am, Darce.”

“Bucky,” Darcy started evenly. “Moving in together is a huge step. Please don’t feel like you have to ask just ‘cause your old-timey sensibilities are telling you that you should due to some really spectacular pre-marital sex.”

“Sweetheart, I’m serious as a heart attack. Move in with me,” he said, looping an arm about her waist so they stood pressed up against each other. He leaned down a bit and caught her eyes with his blue-grey ones. “We’ll meld our book collections. You’ll burn our dinners and I’ll end up cookin’. I’ll complain about your freezing toes in bed, and you’ll tell me not to leave the gun oil on the kitchen counters. I want it all with you, eventually. Move in.”

He shrugged, displaying a casualness that time had taught her was affected. He cleared his throat and seemed to steel himself. “The apartment next to mine is empty. Stark said we can knock the wall down. We can have a guest room or - or something. Y’know.” Bucky carefully studied the faded parking lines on the asphalt. “Eventually. Down the line. I mean. If you want. You don’t have to! I know you modern gals don’t like fellas tellin’ ya what to do so if you don’t want - ”

“Bucky, _breathe.”_ Darcy smiled at his rambling. Usually she was the one with a lot to say. “I want that too.”

“I – Really?”

“Yes, really. Eventually.”

Bucky beamed and she returned the gesture right back.

“But for now, let’s concentrate on the melding of the books. And moving my things in.”

“Thank god.”

“Great!” Darcy kissed him soundly on his grinning lips. “Now let’s get outta here. This apartment building is creeping me the fuck out.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- This was loosely based on [this](https://twitter.com/RantingOwl/status/862680785412870144) truly hilarious twitter thread. 
> 
> \- Full disclosure: I would consider (only consider!) living in a haunted house for hardwood floors, a great kitchen and original stained glass ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ How about you?
> 
> \- Find me on tumblr [here](https://sachertortes.tumblr.com/) !


End file.
